


Let It All Go

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: And a chihuahua, Cunnilingus, F/M, I do what I want, I have no idea what happened, Language, Light D/s undertones, Mentions of PTSD, No Dinosaurs, OFC is a bit of a brat, Owen deserves some fun, Owen is the Alpha, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Really quite a lot of them, Romance, Summer Fling, There are dolphins, This Was A Dream I Had, Unexpected feelings, Unhappy Ending, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, What happens in Florida stays in Florida, safe sex, shameless self insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: Norah isn’t the first woman he leaves the bar with, but he usually doesn’t spend five hours talking to them first.





	Let It All Go

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had writer’s block like whoa for a while, and then I had a sexy Owen Grady dream, and this happened. Was supposed to be a PWP drabble, but those have developed a habit of really running away with me, and all of a sudden there are feelings and a kind of plot and I’m just like “???”. I cranked this out in like, three days, so please be kind.  
> Also, I don’t particularly like Claire. This has been a PSA.

Owen has always been vigilant, more aware of his surroundings than most people. Comes with being a soldier, and with working with animals that could kill you if you so much as blinked too long. Taking stock of a place when he enters it, that’s a habit he hasn’t been able to shake even as a civilian, even when the most lethal animal around is Joe the bar keeper’s 4 pound chihuahua. Today, there’s the usual roster of regulars, the ones clinging to their glasses just a bit too tightly, and a handful of tourists, mostly middle-aged couples. 

He’s seen his fair share of them since coming here, men and women on their second honeymoon after the kids have been shipped off to college, and he can’t decide if he envies them or not. On the one hand, the thought of living their lives, with a mortgage and some kids and an office job terrifies him more than facing down the Indominus did, but on the other hand… When he sees them, sitting in the booths making heart eyes at each other, when he sees the ease and familiarity with which they treat each other. Yeah. That he is kind of jealous of.

Joe has spotted him and is waving him over, and Owen obliges. He’s probably about to have his ear chewed off about some imaginary illness that the aforementioned chihuahua is supposedly been struck with, for Joe got it into his head that since Owen worked with dinosaurs and now works at the dolphin research centre, he’s a vet or something. Normally, he would roll his eyes and shoot whoever asked for his advice down, but for one Joe is one of those quirky uncle types you can’t say no to, and more importantly, the dog is healthy as a horse, and so Owen listens and nods and hums at the appropriate moments. The end result is always, “Just give her something to do, Joe, she’s probably just bored,” and Joe smiles brightly and nods, happy as a clam. The beer he then sets in front of Owen is, “On the house,” and he smiles to himself as Joe bustles off to pester some other regular.

After everything that happened at Jurassic World two years earlier, Owen had been glad to high-tail it out of there, but then he realised he’d never get to see Blue again. Velociraptors are pack animals, and thinking of her, the only one of her species on that fucking island… It makes his blood boil, and his grip on the bottle in front of him tightens.

“Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”

He startles and turns to the speaker, a woman who has slid onto the stool beside him. “What?” Not the most intelligent come-back, he realises when she smirks up at him.

“You look like someone just ran over your puppy.” She pushes her light hair behind her ear and plucks the wooden pick from her cocktail glass. “Tell me if I’m annoying you, and I’ll scram.” With that, she pops the piece of pineapple into her mouth, giving him a lop-sided smile as she chews.

Owen mentally shakes himself and turns towards her. “Nah, I’m sorry, I just… It’s a bit complicated.”

“Ah.” She nods, and he knows she’s probably imagining trouble with an ex. Not that she’d be entirely wrong there. “I’m Norah. I didn’t wanna bother you, it’s just that you looked like you could need someone to keep you company.”

He smiles. “I’m not opposed to that.” He holds out his hand, and she takes it with a smirk. Hers is small in his, and surprisingly cool given the heat. “I’m Owen.”

She squints at him in the dim light, recognition lighting up her features. “You’re that dinosaur guy, aren’t you? From the park.”

He sighs. This keeps happening, though less and less as time goes on. “Yeah, that would be me.” He gives her a crooked smile. “I suppose you want an autograph now?”

Norah laughs and toasts him with her glass. “Nah, I’m good.” She takes a sip of her drink before she watches him shrewdly, her lips still pressed to the rim of the glass. “What’s it like? Being so close to one of them?”

He gives a half-shrug. “Depends. The herbivores, they’re basically overgrown cattle.”

“But you didn’t work with herbivores.” There’s something in her voice, something dark, and Owen shifts in his seat, leans toward her a bit. His hand flexes on his thigh, and her eyes flicker down for a second.

“No. I didn’t.” He knows the moment her lips part on a sigh. He’s seen her type before, the groupies, the ones who don’t see him so much as they see the perceived danger he represents. Everybody who works with big game knows them, and most steer clear of them because nobody needs that particular kind of drama.

But then her face brightens and she laughs again. “I guess I ought to act impressed now.”

He’s taken aback, and also a little intrigued. “You’re not?”

“Eh. Maybe a little.” She smirks. “So with the whole shit show that was the park, what are you doing these days?”

Owen considers making something up, but what would be the point? So he tells her about the research centre, about his work with the dolphins, and he’s not surprised by the awe on her face. Apparently dolphins are more impressive than dinosaurs.

“Think you could sneak me inside to see them?” She’s grinning, and he has to laugh.

“Why the hell not.”

Her grin brightens even more, incredibly, and she clinks her glass against his bottle. “I’ll hold you to that.”

They talk more, about everything and nothing, and when Owen looks down at his watch, it’s 2a.m. all of a sudden. “Shit.”

“Gotta split?”

“Yeah. Work starts in about four hours.” He groans, and Norah laughs.

“Let me walk you out.” She stretches, a full-body arms-over-her-head stretch, and he can’t look away. Of course she notices, and he clears his throat and turns away when she smirks up at him. He tosses a couple of bills onto the bar, pointedly ignoring the grin on Joe’s face. Norah isn’t the first woman he leaves the bar with, but he usually doesn’t spend _five hours_ talking to them first.

Norah walks out first and stops on the side walk, smiles up at him. “I had a good time tonight, you know.”

She’s a full head shorter than he is, he realises, maybe 5’7”, and as he looks down at her, an image of her clinging to him, winding her legs around his waist as she kisses him, flashes through his mind. “Yeah. Me too.” He looks over to where his car is parked, rubs his neck. “So, are you close to home? I could drive you.”

She laughs and stands on tiptoe, and she presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll walk, thanks.” She smirks up at him. Her hand lies flat against his chest, and it’s not cool any more. “I don’t make a habit of getting in the car with guys I only just met.”

“Very smart.” He laughs. His cheek prickles slightly where she kissed him, and as she turns and walks away, he stands there a moment longer, waving until she disappears around the corner. He touches his cheek, bemused, and only realises he’s smiling when he catches sight of himself in the rear view mirror.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He doesn’t expect to see Norah again. She’s no regular, a new face, probably a tourist, and those come and go like the clouds in the sky, but then he walks back into the bar a week later and there she sits, talking to Lucy, one of the waitresses. There’s an odd little flutter somewhere behind his breastbone, and before he really realises he’s doing it, he finds himself walking towards them. Lucy spots him first, and he chooses to ignore the knowing look in her dark eyes as she steps out of his way and walks away with a little snicker.

He slides into the booth, and Norah looks confused for a second before she recognises him, and then she smiles brightly. “Hey, it’s you!”

Owen smirks. “In the flesh.” He doesn’t miss the way her eyes roam over his arms then, the way her smile becomes something different, and he leans back in his seat, throws his arm over the back of the bench. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here again.”

She takes a sip from her glass, gives a little shrug. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, buddy.” She sets down the glass again, crosses her arms in front of her. Owen is very proud of himself for stopping his eyes from flicking down. “I’ll be here a whole year, actually. Sabbatical of sorts.” She grimaces. “Bad break-up, yadda, yadda. Boring story. Now I’m working for a non-profit until I get my shit sorted out.”

“Commendable.”

She gives him a look that says she’s not certain if he’s being serious, before she drains her glass and sets it on the table between them. “And what are you up to tonight?”

He shrugs. “My plan was to get at least slightly drunk while listening to Joe go on about his poor dying dog but now that you’re here...” He leans forward, touches the hand that’s still holding her glass. “Wanna go see some dolphins?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He really shouldn’t be doing this. Owen knows that. He can’t just take random people to the pen in the middle of the night, and yet here they are.

Norah’s excitement is hard to ignore, her hand rigid in his as he leads her towards the sea pens, and he chuckles. “You know, you might be the first person I’ve met who is genuinely more interested in the dolphins than the dinosaurs.”

She makes a face and waves her free hand dismissively. “Not a lizard person.”

Owen looks down at her, scandalised. “They’re not _lizards_.” She just smirks up at him, and he rolls his eyes.

The dolphins are swimming in lazy circles, and Owen sits at the edge of the pen, pulling Norah to sit beside him. “Take off your shoes.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “They won’t bite, will they?”

He laughs and pulls off his boots and socks, sticks his feet into the water. “Not when I’m here.”

Norah toes off her flats, and he realises she can barely reach the water, but it seems to be enough for her. She’s grinning again. The dolphins ignore them a moment longer, until Owen clicks his tongue. Norah jumps slightly as the animals abruptly change direction, heading for them, and he can see that she wants to pull up her feet, so he puts a hand on her waist and pulls her towards him.

“It’s okay. They’re not gonna hurt you.” She’s looking at him with wide eyes, and then a dolphin bumps the sole of her foot with its head, and she almost jumps into his lap with a squeak of surprise, her arms going around his neck, and he laughs. “Easy there. I got you.”

She has turned away from him, looking down into the water, and there is the impulse of wanting to bury his face in her hair, in her warmth. She shifts, her grip on him loosening, and he wriggles his toes in the water, clicking his tongue again. The dolphins change course again, coming back to them, and he gives a low whistle. One of them, an older female, turns over, and Owen slides his foot across her belly. Norah watches, her lower lip between her teeth. “Can I…?”

He nods, whistles again. “Move your foot, they need to know where to go.”

She does as told, and one of the young males bumps against her, slides along her foot, and she laughs. “They’re so warm!” She turns back to him, smiling so brightly, and their eyes meet. Her hand twitches where it rests on his thigh, and he swallows. Norah mirrors him, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. “You’re warm, too.”

Owen chuckles, moves his hand to her waist again. “So are you.”

He couldn’t tell who moves first but he doesn’t much care. He just kisses her, and her hands are in his hair, and he pulls her against him more fully.

“Tell me something,” she gasps against his lips as she climbs into his lap, “how do you control a bunch of apex predators so they don’t rip you to shreds?”

He smirks. Of course this was going to come up at some point. His hands are on her waist, but now he brings one up to her neck, and she freezes as he grips her there. Not too hard, not painful, just hard enough to hold her in place. “You let them know who’s the alpha,” he growls against her lips, and she shudders in his grip.

Owen kisses her again, loosens his grip on her, and she presses herself against him, arches her back as he kisses a trail along the line of her jaw. “Fucking hell, Owen.” She whimpers when he brings his other hand around to cup her breast, and her nails bite into the skin of his neck. “Are you planning to take me home with you?”

He chuckles. Her nipple has hardened under his hand, and he pinches it gently, making her hiss against his lips. “Unless you’d like them to watch...” He nods towards the dolphins making their rounds beneath them, and Norah looks at them over her shoulder. A blush is rising in her cheeks, and he can practically see the cogs turning in her head. So she wouldn't be completely against the idea. Huh. “Maybe another time,” he murmurs against her cheek, and she chuckles as she turns back to him.

“Somebody is confident in his abilities.” He grasps her by the hips and pulls her against him, against the bulge in his pants, and she gasps, the sound turning into a breathy laugh. “Show, don’t tell, dino boy.”

He smirks and kisses her one last time before he releases her, and she slides off his lap – and in the process almost falls ass over tea kettle into the sea pen. He manages to grab her wrist and tug, and she falls forward instead, knocking him to the ground and the air out of his lungs. There’s a moment of silence where he catches his breath, and then Owen starts laughing, and Norah joins in as she moves off of him to lie beside him.

When they’ve calmed down somewhat, he pushes himself up on his elbows. Norah grins up at him. Her hair makes a halo around her head. “As first dates go, this one isn’t half bad.”

Owen finds that he agrees.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He has a trailer a few minutes’ walk from the research centre, but those few minutes turn into almost 15, for they have to stop every few yards to kiss and touch and just get close to one another. Norah almost tackles him once they’ve made it inside, and he grasps her by the waist and lifts her onto the kitchen counter, their lips meeting in a kiss that is less kiss and more battle for dominance. She pulls him to stand between her legs, her fingers going into his hair again, and he slides his hands under her t-shirt, drags his fingertips over her spine, her ribs.

She breaks the kiss, breathing hard, and tugs at his collar. “Jesus, if I don’t get you out of this soon, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Owen takes hold of the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, tosses it over his shoulder. He smirks down at her. “That would make two of us.”

She makes short work of his buttons, even as he kisses down her throat, and she only falters when he pulls aside the cup of her bra and sucks her nipple into his mouth. She whines, a sound that goes straight to his cock, and he sucks harder before he lets go of her with a wet pop. Owen reaches down and undoes the button of her shorts one-handed, and she lifts her butt off the counter as he pulls them down, underwear and all. Her eyes are dark and wide as he pulls her to perch on the edge of the counter, as he puts his hands on the swell of her hips, as he sinks to his knees in front of her.

He has always liked doing this. Some men think it’s gross, but he thinks they’re just afraid of the intimacy of it all. The sound that falls from her lips as he drags his tongue through her folds, slowly, exploring, is high and needy, and he knows it would be easy to tip her over the edge within a matter of minutes. The muscles in her thighs are tightening under his grip, her pelvis tilted just so to give him better access, but he smirks against her and continues his languid pace.

Norah slides a hand into his hair, tries to direct him to where she wants him. “Fuck, Owen, just...” He growls, turns his head, nips at the soft inside of her thigh, and she jumps.

“We’ve got all night, darling.” He smirks at her, at the way she catches her lower lip between her teeth, and bends his head to his task again. He resists the urge to command her to watch him, knows that she will do it without being told to. The words sting in the back of his throat, and he swallows them down as he instead licks and suckles and explores, and the sounds she makes grow more desperate, the way she tries to rock against him even more so. Finally he relents, lets go of her hip to slide his fingers into her, and closes his lips over the swell of her clitoris as he finds the ridged spot inside her with crooked fingers. Her nails bite into the skin of his head as she holds him in place, as she tightens around him, her fluids running down his chin, and she comes apart with a strangled string of curses.

He lets her ride the waves of her orgasm until her grip on his hair slackens, and only then does he pull his fingers free. She slides off the kitchen, into his lap, and kisses him, hungrily, with a moan low in her throat. He chuckles when she pulls back, breathless, and winds an arm around her waist before he pushes himself to his feet. She squeals, clings to him, before she laughs, equally breathlessly. “That was _really_ nice.”

“Nice, huh?” He walks them to his bedroom and deposits her on the bed. She bounces slightly on the mattress, and he leans down, kisses her again as she fumbles off her bra. “Shit, you taste so good.”

Norah laughs, undoes his belt buckle deftly. “Careful, mister. A compliment like that is a sure fire way to a woman’s heart.” She laughs again at the look on his face and pulls down his pants, slides her hands up his thighs. She leaves goosebumps in her wake, and he kicks the pants away together with his boots, pulls his shirt over his head. Norah draws in a breath, and he smirks down at her. “Well. You should be shirtless more often. That would be a fucking public service.”

Owen chuckles as he shimmies out of his boxers and kneels between her thighs, and she scoots backwards with a grin. He leans forward, catches himself on his hands, stalks after her. Her pupils are blown wide, barely a thin ring of green left, and he bares his teeth at her. “You’ve got a mouth on you, you know that?”

She bites her lip again and lets herself fall back against the pillows. “Oh, you only know the half of it.”

He leans down, kisses his way up her thigh and over her belly, through the valley between her breasts. Norah gives a soft sigh and puts her hand on his neck, cards her fingers into his hair and pulls him up by it, so she can look him in the eye. He smirks, slides a hand between her thighs, and her eyes flutter closed. “Let’s hear it, then.”

She comes apart on his fingers twice more, and he is quite impressed with the range of curses she knows, that she breathes into his neck as he rubs his thumb over her clitoris. Finally, she twists her hips away with a gasp. “Fucking hell, enough. I can’t...”

Owen silences her with a kiss and pushes himself to all fours again, moves to kneel between her legs. “Done already? That’s a shame.” 

She looks up at him from under heavy eyelids, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Not what I said, mister.” She reaches between his legs, grabs hold of his cock _finally_ , making him hiss, his eyes falling closed. Yeah, it has been a while, he realises.

He nods at the night stand, at the top drawer, and she pulls it open with her free hand, pulls out one of the condoms stashed inside. She rips it open with her teeth, and he groans as she twists her hand just so.

They fumble with it, can’t find the right side to roll down at first, and she giggles, a light, girlish sound quite at odds with the words coming out of her mouth when they manage to put it on him and he finally pushes himself into her. Her legs come up around his hips, and he rests his weight on his elbows, holds himself above her and captures her lips again, and she murmurs his name into his skin, over and over, as he loses himself in the heat of her. She slides her nails over his back, lightly at first, then sharper, and his hips stutter, his breath hisses through his teeth.

“What did you mean? Earlier. About being the alpha?”

Owen pulls back so he can look at her, and there is a challenge in her eyes. Something curls in his belly, draws his lips back from his teeth, and she tightens around him as her eyes flicker down to his mouth. He sits back on his haunches, and Norah arches her back with a moan at the change in angle. He smiles gently. “Well, for one it means that what I say goes.” She looks up at him, a determined set to her jaw, and he can see where this could go. Instead, he leans down again and kisses her, softly, softly, and she melts into his touch, relaxes into the mattress as he fucks her, slowly, unhurriedly.

She whines when she realises what he’s doing and pulls up her legs, her knees, and he groans into her mouth. She whispers his name again, digs her heels into his back, and he chuckles. She tilts her hips up and he sinks that much deeper into her, and she smirks around a low moan. “Is that so?”

He winds a hand into her hair, pulls her head to the side and kisses her throat, her pulse jumping under his lips. “That’s how you wanna play this, darling?” She gasps out a, “Yes,” and he pushes himself off of her. “Turn over.” His voice is low, scratches the back of his throat, and she obeys instantly, flips over to lie on her front. He just looks at her for a moment, at the curve of her back, the swell of her buttocks, before he slides his palm down the line of her spine. Her hands fist into the sheets, and he’s sure that if she could, she would purr.

Owen straddles her thighs, rubs himself against her, and she pushes back, arches her back with a whine. He chuckles, bends his head and presses a kiss between her shoulder blades. “This what you want?” She nods into the pillow, furiously, and he murmurs, “Ask me nicely,” into her hair.

Norah shudders beneath him, every muscle in her body coiled tight as she pushes back against him again. “ _Please_.” It’s almost too quiet to hear, muffled in the pillow, but he presses a kiss against the shell of her ear.

“Good girl,” he says and slides back into her with a groan. She cries out, throws back her head with another curse, and he laughs.

The bed is creaking beneath them, and it starts to bang against the wall of the trailer as Owen picks up his pace, as he cages her between his arms, his lips finding a spot on her neck that makes her clench deliciously around him. He tilts his hips back and she gives a long wail, and he growls against her skin.

“Use your hands, babe.” Again, she obeys within seconds, slides her hand between her thighs, and he groans as she tightens around him at her touch. “That’s it, that’s the spot, isn’t it?” Norah moans, gasps, and then she screams as she comes, she bucks against him, and he pumps his hips harder, finds her free hand and laces their fingers together, their grip bruising on each other’s skin. Stars pop behind his eyelids, and he follows her over the edge as he groans her name into her hair.

They stay like that, gasping, catching their breath, for a long while, until he winds an arm around her, holds her to him as he rolls to lie on his side. She moulds herself to his front with a content hum. “Hmm. I like.”

He chuckles and pulls her against him more tightly by her hip, sighs as she clenches around him again. “That was the plan.”

They let silence envelop them, and Owen draws circles on her hip with the pad of his thumb. “You wanna stay?” he murmurs into her hair, and she rolls over, hissing as he slides out of her, looks up at him with what he could only accurately describe as bedroom eyes.

“Do you want me to?”

He pulls her close again, kisses her, and she giggles against his lips.

She falls asleep, her head pillowed on her hand, her cheek pressed against his chest, and he watches the light from the lamp post outside light up her hair, until his eyes fall closed, and he too gives in to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Owen didn’t expect any of this.

They fit into each other’s lives effortlessly. They meet up at the bar more often than not, and Norah pops into the research centre a few times a week with lunch, and four months later, Owen asks her to move into his trailer with him. It’s all incredibly domestic, white picket fence-y, and he basks in it, more than he thought possible. Norah listens to his stories about the raptors, and the first time he wakes up screaming beside her, the Indominus snapping at his heels in his dream, she kisses him and holds him until he stops shaking. He finds himself helping out at charity events at the non-profit she works at, and they fuck each other silly all over his trailer, never seeming to tire of each other.

Months pass in this new sort of peace, and he almost comes to grips with never seeing Blue again. Chooses to believe that she’s happy on Isla Nublar, that things might turn out okay for all of them. Until Norah shows him a video from a news channel on her phone, and his blood runs cold.

And then, a few days later, there’s a knock at the door of his trailer, and there is Claire, her mouth a thin line of unease. “Owen.”

“Who is it, babe?” Norah’s voice from the bedroom, and the expression on Claire’s face sours. Under different circumstances, Owen would find it hilarious. Norah appears at the door then, and he makes a show of putting a hand on her waist and pulling her against him. Petty? Hell yes. Then again, him and Claire didn’t break up because they got along so well.

“This is Claire. My former boss,” his fingers twitch a little on Norah’s waist, “and my ex.”

Norah, to her credit, just smiles and holds out her hand. “Hey. I’m Norah.”

Claire takes the proffered hand, likewise ignoring Owen’s impoliteness. “Claire Dearing.”

Owen shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I suppose you’re here to talk about the island.” The look on Claire’s face tells him all he needs to know.

It’s getting dark when he returns to the trailer, after Claire has explained her ridiculous plan. The volcano under Isla Nublar is about to blow, and Claire – _Claire_ , for crying out loud – wants him to help with saving the dinosaurs. And damn it, he wants to go, wants to get Blue out of there, safe and sound, even though he’s scared shitless by the idea of going back.

Norah is waiting for him, out on the porch, legs curled under her in the wicker chair, and he drops heavily into the one beside it. They sit in silence for a while, no sound but the sea and the birds in the trees.

Finally, she breathes a sigh. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

He rubs a hand over his face, looks over at her. She’s watching him, and when he holds out his hand, she takes it with a small smile. “I have to, darling.” He squeezes her fingers. “I just… I have to.”

Her smile becomes tinged with sadness, and he blinks against the sudden wetness in his eyes. This feels like an ending, he thinks, like she’s saying goodbye, and he tugs on her hand, pulls her over to him and into his lap. She curls into him, her head tucked under his chin, her fingers tangling with his. “I understand.” Her voice is even, and he finds himself cursing John Hammond, of all people, and his stupid dream.

They stay like that until the sun has fully dipped behind the horizon, and when he takes her to their bed, it feels like the last time. Like a farewell, and she’s crying as she clings to him.

Claire expects him at the airport the next day, and Norah drives him there, kisses him so sweetly, tells him to be safe, and he knows she won’t be there when he returns.

“I always knew you’d choose them if it came to this. You’ve made your choice, Owen Grady, and if you hadn’t made this one, you wouldn’t be the man I fell in love with.”

He gets on the plane with Claire, and once they are in the air, he locks himself into the toilet and cries. The look she gives him when he returns to his seat is full of pity, and he turns away and looks out of the window.

 _No picket fences in your future, buddy_ , he thinks. Just nightmares.

The End

_I don't know why, I don't know why_  
We need to break so hard  
I don't know why we break so hard 

_But if we're strong enough_  
To let it in  
We're strong enough  
To let it go 

_Let it all go, let it all go  
Let it all out now _

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving a tip! http://ko-fi.com/gersemicosplay
> 
> Title and lyrics from “Let It All Go” by Rhodes + Birdy


End file.
